#wendy-comet

oh this one’s mean:

Sammy closes his eyes and waits to die.

yes, King Falls AM...yes it could be ANY fic of mine, if I’m honest...but I’m working on a sequel to King Falled.

Just Let Them Have Nice Things!!!!

I have a mug that says “Tea Fixes Everything” and has a list of things that it fixes, one of which is ‘no tea’, and I think Martin needs that mug. 

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Honestly, enough was enough when it came to this ‘no tea’ nonsense. 

Too many times over the last few days, Martin found himself setting the water to boil and reaching instinctively for the tin on the counter only to have to stop halfway through when he remembers: There is no tea. 

There is something in the tin, and it rattles delightfully like a full tin of tea leaves should, but Martin has yet to open it after that first time. 

So there is no actual tea in the cottage. But a lack of tea leaves would not deter him from his goal. 

Out back, just around the left corner of the cottage, there is the small attempts at an herb garden. It was just starting to flourish before everything went wrong. 

Martin is relieved to find that it is there, and, at least to his eyes, unchanged. There seems to be a small pocket left untouched around the cottage — Jon’s influence, perhaps. The rest of the fears only dare to change small things as pranks, but don’t have enough power to step over that line. 

Martin doesn’t spend long outside. Just enough to snap off the heads of a few lavender stalks and a handful of mint leaves. 

He rinses them in the sink, and fills a saucepan with water. As he sets the water on to boil, Martin busies himself with routine. This is easy, familiar almost. Tinged with memories he doesn’t want to keep, but at this point it is the only thing left. 

hi wendy! it was assassin’s creed! it’s the reason i set up my deviantart 10 years ago and the first games remain very important to me~

(MAN SEE THE THING IS i’d love to ot3 for you but i cannot imagine this one. i mean i can but i also cant realistically reconcile martin and elias tolerating each other for more than 0.05 seconds. and i saved a pic of jonmartin sleepcuddles today SO)

It’s hard, in the days after the Watcher’s Crown. They take what moments they can get. Moments like this: alone together, and isolated from the world outside. Jon so tired that his many eyes and wings are beginning to disappear as his mind shuts down. So tired that he has less energy to agonize about what he has unwittingly done, creating the factory farm of fear he was warned against so long ago, but not tired enough to sleep, go into his nightmare state and make things worse for everyone.

“I don’t want to sleep,” Jon says pitifully, curling into Martin’s chest and fisting his hands in his shirt. “I hate hurting people like that. I hate seeing everyone… watching… being there…”

“I know you do,” Martin murmurs into Jon’s hair. “It’s not your fault. You can’t help it.”

“But I chose it,” Jon says bitterly. Martin’s hands tighten at Jon’s back at the echo of Elias, who knew this was going to happen, who facilitated all of this and led Jon by the nose into it.

“I wish I could take this on for you, so you didn’t have to be alone,” Martin whispers, tucking a grey lock of hair behind Jon’s ear. “I wish you could stay awake all the time, like that monster.”

“I don’t wish I was like him in any way,” Jon says venomously, then relents. “He uses that insomnia to watch all the time anyway. It wouldn’t help to be like him.”

“You aren’t,” Martin says, wishing it didn’t ring so hollow. “We don’t have any proof that you staying up helps anyone, you know?” he says instead, maybe changing the topic too quickly. “What if it just delays it?” He tilts his forehead against the crown of Jon’s head. “What if it just hurts you?”

“Then I would deserve it,” Jon mumbles. “Look what I’ve done.”

Martin sighs and leans back, tilting Jon’s face up to meet his eyes, the ones he has always had, still hazel and human and real. Something to focus on other than the restlessly shifting shapes of the other eyes under his skin, all ready to manifest and open at any time. “I will love you no matter what, Jon, you know that. If you have to sleep, I’ll be here when you wake up, all right?”

Jon bites his lip to keep his expression neutral, then when his face is about to crumple anyway, he leans up and kisses Martin to mask it. Martin curls his hands around the back of Jon’s neck in return, holding him steady.

reminds me of the time my linguistics professor tried to teach his daughter that "-en" was the English plural, like "cowen" instead of "cows," until his wife said he had to stop. linguistics academics are relentless in pursuit of Language Information!

5. Favorite NPC.

all of them?? although my faves are definitely matthias and ophelia. and donaldmac. and susan the horse.

13. Introduce your current party.

ok so we’ve got:

peace, tiefling paladin and general do-gooder (except when it comes to stealing things from museums), loves the lady sol, poe’s girlfriend, arguably a scaley, sometimes glows for no reason

poe, dragonborn bard, plays the theramin, has a very charming southern accent, peace’s girlfriend, likes having her feathers out and dislikes wearing clothing

nikolai, half-elf rogue, prone to monologging and flirting with antagonistic npcs, has stolen many things including matthias’s heart, one half of team rocket, dottie’s unofficial son

nia, halfling druid, has one (1) antler, wreaker of general havoc, very rambunctious, stole a piece of museum floor to give to their crush, other half of team rocket, dottie’s other unofficial child

dottie (my character!), half-orc fighter, bad at talking to people but good at punching, mom friend, The Most Responsible, new to magic but she’s trying her best

19. Do you or your party have any dice superstitions?